


ira furor brevis est (wrath is but a brief madness)

by halimedes



Series: sun drenched cobblestone streets [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halimedes/pseuds/halimedes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sicilian vespers fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ira furor brevis est (wrath is but a brief madness)

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for the 30 days of writing a drabble a day challenge/posted to tumblr.

_Sicìlia, 1282  
_

He’s there when it happens. It would have been odd for him not to be; it is Easter and it happens just by the church. This is not like the wars that happened even earlier in his childhood, the ones that he wasn’t forced to come along and witness — he might be Southern Italy it was said, but humans refused to believe it would be good for a child to see. 

This time he sees a young woman dragged out by a man, sees his crude advances. He sees her husband and his knife, he sees the blood and the body. He sees the crowd, both his and the one that isn’t, and he knows there is that strong notion of pride permeated through them all. He can feel his pulse racing. The bell rings, it is time for the vespers to begin.

-  


_Deus, in adiutorium meum intende. Domine, ad adiuvandum me festina. Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen. Alleluia._

-

Romano hates men. Hates the way they can’t be trusted, the way they always leave, the way they can’t seem to stop shedding blood. It disgusts and scares him. He finds a haven among the women; regardless if young or old they’re almost all kind, their skirts long and safe and something to hold on to. Sometimes they hold him in the belief that he is a lost child, their hands and arms soft, their faces sweet and their words gentle.

-

Well into the late hours, hidden by the dark, Romano pisses in one of France’s boots. It will probably dry before the night is over, but the satisfaction in doing so is too great not to. France is not his men, does not rape or steal, but he benefits from the ones doing such and only listens to Romano’s complaints with deaf ears.  


-

‘Don’t think this means you have won,’ France says and smiles. He sounds certain of himself, laughter not too far away. Romano wants to punch him. He knows that France and most of his men have fled to the mainland even if they’re standing in Messina now, that they have fled and taken Naples in even firmer control and that makes him angry. Naples is  _his_ . ‘Chin up, sweetie,’ France coos because he’s a fucking bastard who thinks he’s being nice, ‘I’ll be back before you can miss me.’ He kisses Romano’s forehead and Romano bangs his head forward with all his might. France doesn’t smile after that.

-

Fucking pope. Fucking Frenchmen. 

Romano seethes. 

-

‘Wasn’t it just great luck that Pedro and I were in Tunis just now?’ The bastard laughs. He laughs a lot. He has only been here for a full day, with pretty promises of aid and old privileges but Romano doesn’t see how the fuck this bastard is supposed be any better than France.

The only aspect about him that’s better is that Romano isn’t afraid to serve him bread that’s gone stale or mix water into his wine; and if his hand shakes when he carries the tray, if _Spain_ finds himself with a lapful of rotten wine, Romano can’t really be held accountable. He’s so young, just a little child. These actions may be petty wins, if they can count as wins at all, but it is all he can do at this point. His people might have sent for this man and his king but that doesn’t mean that he has to like what will follow. With Spain comes a war, and war does rarely bring good.

**Author's Note:**

> i really tried to fit this with hetalia canon but it was rather difficult, because (really simplified) history basically goes: france rules southern italy; the sicilians are oppressed and not happy about it; a straw breaks the camels back and they massacre frenchmen; then the sicilians want the same status as cities like venice & pisa & genoa but the pope is french and says no; they call for help and the crown of aragon steps in and takes over, southern italy is spanish now woot yea. i think you see where that doesn’t quite fit with canon. (though it should perhaps be added - when i say that france ruled southern italy i mean that a french king that wasn't king of france did it, and the same goes for when i say that it is spanish; it is under the crown of aragon which is spanish but not yet the spain of today which is obvious considering when the sicilian vespers happened).


End file.
